


The Kremlin's Ghostly Bureaucrat

by skulduggery_putin



Series: KGB: (the) Kremlin's Ghostly Bureaucrat [1]
Category: Bhoothnath Returns, Christian Bible, Political RPF - American 21st c., Political RPF - Russian 21st c.
Genre: Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skulduggery_putin/pseuds/skulduggery_putin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Vladimir's perspective, it's an idiotic idea. In Barack's mind, it's something that will improve Russia for generations to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Capítulo Uno

**Author's Note:**

> This work is dedicated to the people who happen to find this fic while browsing for something much better, something much more thought-out. I hope you will be purified. I hope you will be able to ascend to Heaven after reading this filth.

Russia, most people knew, was a corrupted country. Its gutters swelled with sewage and its roads, in areas, were pockmarked with potholes, like the country had suffered through a particularly bad case of acne. Yet, if one walked only two blocks away from this ragged, slum-filled neighborhood, one could glimpse the white spires of the Kremlin and the famed onion domes of the St. Petersburg Cathedral permeate the pristine air.

There was an area between the dank, hellish depths of the Motherland and its shining façade. This area was where the minor officials lived – the senators, the judges, the lead bankers, among others of their kin. In this region populated by the upper-middle-class, in the middle of the picturesque snow-lined avenues and awe-inspiring gargoyles, there was a house that was the black sheep in its family. Not just the black sheep, as a matter of fact, but a sheep so dark that in the night, it became invisible- metaphorically, of course.

In this house lived the Putin family, comprised of one father (Vladimir Spiridonovich Putin), one mother (Maria Ivanovna Putina) , one son (upon whose shoulders this story rests), and two daughters (who do not, unfortunately, play an instrumental part).

Spiridonovich Putin was an influential figure in Russian politics. Among other jobs of varying legalities, he was the Moscow representative in the Federation Council and, most prominently, the leader of the KGB. Thus, the younger Putin’s childhood was blurry; a move from Siberia to Ukraine would be accepted without much hassle. Vladimir tolerated his father’s career as a part-time mafia lord, and in return, he was housed and fed.

However, a boulder balanced on top of a canyon rim will either break the rim or plunge into the canyon, and so too with Vladimir Putin. To condense a long story, when the US and its ally, the UK, discovered that the Fed Council was becoming increasingly corrupt, they sought to find the source of the disease, which led them to Spiridonovich Putin and his henchmen. Spiridonovich Putin fled, forgetting that he had a son; that same son, unfortunately, was incapable of living on his own and thus froze to death in a particularly harsh blizzard.

After his death, Vladimir Putin was judged and determined to be a redeemable person.

“God,” Vladimir said. “Will you do me a favor? Will you grant me the same characteristics –both internal and external – that I had in my previous life?”

The stone statue of God looked on impassively and Vladimir was preparing to leave when the statue spoke.

“Your wish will be fulfilled, but you will have to be a ghost. You cannot occupy a tangible form,” God said.

“That’s alright.”

And thus, Vladimir Putin was reincarnated as a ghost. Because he was invisible, he decided to attain one of the things the frequent moves had never offered him a chance to do: get an education.

\----

Putin walked through the halls of the school –ghosthood still meant he would act and talk like he did in the past. The only condition was that he wouldn’t be seen, and he would have a limited amount of powers - until he happened upon the eleventh class. The students inside appeared roughly the same age as he was when he died.

He passed through the door and into the classroom.

“…is our transfer student from the United States,” the teacher said, gesturing at a boy standing in the front.

“Hello! My name is Barack Obama, and I am 16 years old. My hobbies are reading, swimming, and worshipping the American flag. I hav-“

“That’s great, Barack. Why don’t you tell us about yourself at some other time? We need to proceed with the lesson.”

“Oh,” said Barack, turning slightly pink at the teacher’s interruption. “Where should I sit?”

Putin lurked near the back of the classroom and watched as the new student took his place in the very last row, as there were no more seats open in the front. He was sure that Barack, model student, would have sat as near the teacher as he could (most likely to brownnose and earn a higher mark) .

Putin slid into the seat beside Obama and watched the teacher attentively until the class was over. He repeated this procedure for the majority of the day. Sometimes, he was placed in the same class Barack and would listen to the same introductions take place. 

“Hey, Barack,” said Putin as the school day came to a close. “Walk home with me.”

“Aren't you my partner from maths? What's your name?” Obama asked.

He can see me, Putin thought incredulously.

“You-you can see me? I’m visible?” He poked Barack’s shoulder. “You can see my finger doing that?”

“Uh, is there a reason I wouldn’t be able to see you?”

“I’m a ghost, so technically, no. You should not be able to see me. I need to speak to God- he can’t have messed up and granted me both parts of my wish.”

Barack backed away.

“It-it’s okay, you don’t need to accompany me home. I don’t even know who you are, much less if you’re sane or not.”

Putin rolled his eyes. “My name is Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin. I died when my father fled from the US/UK forces because they were worried the mafia might be becoming an integral part of the Federation Council.”

Obama’s eyes widened. “You mean your father was a leader in the KGB? That’s terrifying. I don’t really know how I would have survived if I was in your place.”

“That’s sort of the point, Barack. I did not, in fact, survive. Hence the whole ghost thing.”

Vladimir realized that he’d been making frankly ludicrous claims and had no evidence to back them up. He pointed his finger at Barack’s backpack and crooked it towards him. The backpack flew towards Vladimir and he halted it with a flick of his wrist.

“That is proof that I am not mortal. I hope we can walk home now?”

“O-of course. Do you know where I live?” Barack asked.

“No. You will have to guide me.”

\----

Barack threw a barrage of questions at Putin while walking home.

“Why did you decide to attend school post-mortem?”

“We did not have the resources to send me to school in the past. Now, because I am invisible, it becomes much less of a challenge to get an education. Better late than never, after all.”

“Does that mean that you have no supplies?”

“No- I don’t need them, either. Quizzes become obsolete and tests even more so. I am in school to learn, and to be quite honest the tests do not interest me.”

“Well, it’s one advantage of being a ghost, I suppose. Still, you should at least attempt them. The teacher doesn’t have to realize- after the test, I will let you borrow mine and you can complete it without looking at the answers.”

“Okay, Obama. Do I have to do my homework, too?”

“Of course! Why would you even imagine the possibility of not doing it?”

They remained silent for the rest of the walk until finally, Putin realized they had arrived at his house. He bid goodbye to Obama and smiled as he entered the proverbial black sheep-house of the neighborhood.

At this point it becomes necessary to give an explanation for why the house was known as the worst. It is a simple matter- part-time mafia lords/senators do not mix well with children. The neighborhood knew the natures of the inhabitants of the house, and thus judged them accordingly. Vladimir and Spiridonovich were frowned upon and because of the frequent moves, never had a chance to fully establish themselves.

Because of this, for better or worse, Vladimir was always one step ahead or behind of his peers-never with them.


	2. Capítulo Dos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obama learns that cheesy sappy lines will get you far, even if the other person doesn't want to admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find out why this stupid story is called the Kremlin's Ghostly Bureaucrat.

Vladimir established a routine with Obama. At six am, they would walk together to school. After attending their classes, they would return home. Obama, seeing that Vladimir was incapable of motivating himself to do schoolwork, would stay at Putin’s house until the worksheets had been completed; frequently, this took such a long time that Obama became a permanent fixture in Vladimir’s house.

“Hey, Barack, I know you said not to bother you, but are your parents okay with you staying at my house until eleven every night?”

“Um, yeah. They haven’t said anything, so I am assuming that it is okay with them. Besides, as long as my grades are not failing, they’re not going to comment.”

Some nights, when the assignments were particularly tedious or they had been assigned massive projects, Obama would stay over for a sleepover. It was during these nights that Putin found himself especially unable to concentrate, not because he had a crush on Obama but because he had, at last, made a friend.

Days passed in a similar fashion and their friendship, like a broken bone, became stronger every time senseless arguments broke it apart. Obama discovered that Vladimir was an exceedingly intelligent person who had not been offered the chance to improve upon his raw ability. In turn for honing these skills, Vladimir would teach Obama things he had learned with the KGB, which, admittedly, were not enough.

As Obama assimilated to Russia, he found more and more flaws in the seemingly perfectly country.

“Vlad,” he whispered one day, “Have you noticed that if you step into a store at any given moment, it’s more likely that they will have a larger stock of vodka than of drinking water? The street behind ours is overflowing with rubbish, Vlad. Are people really expected to live there?”

“If you are thinking of finding a solution to this problem, please take heed. Despite the attempts of the US and the UK to get rid of the corruption in Russia, it is so deeply embedded in the system that they can’t pull it out without causing everything else to topple with it. Like Jenga.”

“I’m not saying that I’m going to find a solution. I’m saying that what if you became president? Would you be able to fix it?”

“Most likely. Why do you want to fix it?”

“It would be nice if this country stayed intact. Besides, it’s a considerate thing to do. I’m sure you have ghostly powers –or if you don’t, just ask God again. You should use them constructively, instead of using them to completely change the classroom numbers when the ninth graders entered.”

“It was hilarious,” Vladimir protested. “They were hopelessly lost.”

“That’s beside the point,” said Obama. “Would you do it?”

“No,” said Putin firmly. “It’s pointless and we have better things to waste our time on. I won't earn any votes, either.”

“How should I convince you, then? Let’s make a deal - if I get you at least one certain vote, will you run for President against Boris Yeltsin?”

“Of course.”

\----

Barack badgered Putin for the next few days, telling him that he was going to get the one vote, whether he wanted to or not.

“Will you stop it already?” Vladimir hissed, exasperated. “I’m not running for President just because you’re enough of a damn idiot to let the whole country know that a 17-year old ghost can be a better president than Yeltsin. You don’t even have a campaign; how are you expecting that people will know who we are?”

“Fine! If you don’t want to help Russia, so be it! Live with the knowledge that you had the opportunity to make our country internationally respected and you refused the chance, simply because you were a coward and lazy.”

Vladimir ignored Barack.

“Look, Vlad, I’m sorry. But there is nothing in the law that decrees that the candidate has to be alive- it only says that you must be a native Russian and over thirty years of age. You aren’t technically thirty, but you have existed for more than thirty years. I’m sure that counts.”

“What about my death certificate, then? What are you going to do when someone turns up at your porch demanding I drop out because I am not a registered voter? It’s not going to work, Barack. You need to accept that.”

"They don't have your death certificate. The mafia didn't want to spread that it was involved with the Fed Council, and so it did its best to conceal your entire existence."

"If that's the case, then I will think about it," replied Putin.

Barack thought for a second.

"Will you do it for me?”

Vladimir paused, a tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks. 

“Have you stooped to asking that now?"

He turned his face away from Obama and coughed. "F-fine, I will engage in the presidential campaign for your sake. Don’t take advantage of this.”

\----

With a brilliant grin on his face that remained there for several consecutive days, Obama asked permission from his parents to stay at his friend’s house for some days, as they ‘had an especially important project that counted for half of their final grade’. They arranged a meeting with a lawyer to enter Vladimir in the presidential campaign as an Independent, because there was no political party he wanted to be affiliated with. Interviews were set up, speeches were given, and debates were broadcasted on national TV.

Through this all, Putin and Obama remained an inseparable duo, and recognition and fame became their constant companions.

However, recognition and fame are like ladders – the higher one climbs, the more precarious one’s position becomes. Vladimir and Barack would have done well to recognize this sooner.


	3. Capítulo Tres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing an official villain: Boris Yeltsin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kill me i h8 this story and myself

“Mr. Yeltsin!” shouted Medvedev from his office. The sound of pattering feet preceded Medvedev’s arrival.

“Dmitry. Please finish your business with me rapidly, as I have other, far more important tasks to cater to.”

“Here are the stats for this year’s term. Your bank account has mysteriously gained three billion dollars and Russia’s coffer is looking a bit depleted. Maybe you should stop the corruption?”

“Nonsense, Medvedev. I need the money, as does the KGB. Are you suggesting that the mafia not be involved in the Russian government at almost all levels? You know first-hand what they do if they know you are blaspheming.”

Dmitry Medvedev cowered under Boris’s cutting glare.

“O-of course, Mr. Yeltsin. I won’t suggest it again.”

Yeltsin waited for his assistant.

“Well? If that was all, then you have wasted my time by being an idiot and putting both of our lives on the line. Did you have anything else, or should I call the mafia?”

“Actually, Mr. Yeltsin, I wanted to inform you that your rival for Presidency is a ghost.”

“Medvedev, you know what happens to people who mock me,” said Yeltsin.

Medvedev quailed.

“S-sir, I wasn’t m-mocking you. It’s the truth. His name is Vladimir Putin and he is the son of Spiridonovich Putin, the leader of the KGB in the 20th century.”

“Spiridonovich was a filthy, cowardly rat, and his son will be cut of the same cloth. How was I to know that he would desert the KGB during its time of need? It was only because of my skillful and clever actions that we managed to keep the organization afloat. Besides, didn't Vladimir die?”

“Of course, Mr. Yeltsin, but since he has existed for more than 30 years and there is no death certificate to prove otherwise, no loopholes in the law exist to say that a ghost cannot be president. But more to the point, I wish to inform you that the younger Putin seems to be close with Barack Obama.”

Boris Yeltsin wondered aloud what unknown figure Spiridonovich's ghostly son was befriending.

“He’s a transfer student from the United States and very much alive. If we eliminate him…" Medvedev suggested.

“Medvedev, for once in your life you have spoken intelligently. We will assassinate Obama because he is close to Putin. We can only hope that Vladimir is not as cold as his father was. If he isn’t, then we can consider him to be a mere roach scuttling across the floor. If he is, then we will need to take drastic measures,” said Yeltsin, his eyes glimmering horribly.

“Sir, I don’t believe the drastic measures will be necessary,” replied Medvedev. “The younger Putin is very close to Obama. Look at this photograph.”

Yeltsin examined the photo of the two boys standing a bit too close to each other for it to be simple friendship.

“Well, Obama might not, but Putin surely knows what happens if the President is a homosexual, even if he is closeted.”

“Of course, sir. We will spread this fact and discredit his name, but it will be challenging. He has already gained many supporters by appealing to the masses.”

“Dmitry, can you think of one incident where money has failed to accomplish the task at hand? I cannot.”

“Neither can I, Mr. Yeltsin. It is decided, then? We will assassinate Obama at the campaign speeches next week. He will surely be there to support his boyfriend.”

“Send Yekaterina and Maria, Dmitry; the girls can slip through a crowd without being noticed or recognized. Equip them with knives and only if absolutely necessary give them guns. We need this to be a covert operation.”

“Of course, Mr. Yeltsin,” replied Medvedev as he walked out of his boss’s office.


	4. Capítulo Cuatro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Putin gives a speech that will make or break his presidency and Obama learns that he is prone to kissing when excited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are thousands of things you should be doing right now. drop this shitty fic and go do them. 
> 
> the only thing of note: shitty ladder metaphors are brought back in spite of the author's better judgement.

Vladimir straightened Barack’s tie and attempted to halt the progress of a few beads of sweat travelling down Barack’s nose.

“Obama, you have done a lot for this campaign, and while I was not the most enthusiastic about your plan, I hope, for your sake, that I will be able to bring it to fruition.”

Barack ran his fingers through his hair and practiced a smile in front of the mirror as he returned the good wishes to Putin, telling him that he would certainly give a moving, coercive speech and be able to garner the number of votes he would need to become President.

The final decision lay in the hands of the people, which was quite a foreign concept to Obama. Used to the USA’s electoral college-based system, he’d had to alter his original idea for Putin’s campaign quite a bit. Now, Putin appealed to the hearts of people. By extensive use of the minor powers with which God had endowed him when he became a ghost, he had been able to patch up quite a few potholes, repair some water pipes, and distribute water in poverty-stricken areas.

They were in the final stages of the election, and this speech could either solidify Putin’s presidency or it could obliterate Barack’s reputation as a considerate, intelligent, and most importantly, sane person. His parents had long since been informed of the leaps that their son was taking, and while the idea had originally been met with incredulous expressions, they had grown accustomed to and even begun to appreciate the fact that their son was partaking in Vlad’s campaign.

In five minutes, it would be up to Putin’s words to cinch his spot. Barack clenched his fists in his pockets as he prepared to go onstage to introduce Vlad and explain their special circumstances.

\----

Obama imagined the spotlight as a heavy bag perched across his shoulders as he strode across the stage. The announcer greeted him; Barack returned the greetings and lowered himself into a chair. He saw Putin do the same.

“Mr. Obama, you are introducing a very unusual candidate to walk the marbled halls of the Kremlin.”

Obama smiled at the camera briefly before replying.

“Well, it’s not every day you meet a benevolent ghost, and I believe that Mr. Putin is unique. Not only has he been able to resolve some of the problems plaguing Russia – albeit on a very minor scale – but he has also shown himself as a courageous person – or, should I say, ghost.”

The interviewer chuckled.

“I don’t intend to be rude, but could Mr. Putin prove that he is, indeed, here?”

Vladimir took that as his cue to perform the same swish-and-flick maneuver he had performed on Barack’s backpack they day they met. He was greeted with gasps and a smattering of applause and, taking a bow (which, admittedly, no one but Barack could see) gently lowered the chair to the stage floor.

“Sir, I am sure that your viewers will understand that this is a live feed, and nothing has been edited nor altered- in fact, there are neither strings nor pulleys to make this chair ascend, said Obama, trying to gain the interviewer's faith.

The latter man confirmed this fact, and went on to ask Putin to give a few words on why he was running for elections.

The droplets of sweat threatened to form and slide down Obama’s nose once again. He willed Putin to make a speech that would touch every Russian citizen, and perhaps too those who were listening to the campaigns from abroad.

Putin stepped up to the microphone and smiled nervously. At the sight of his friend’s smile, Obama’s nerves began calming down, and once more he was able to give his full focus to Vlad’s speech.

“Citizens of Russia,” Putin began. Immediately, he was interrupted by a chorus of screams and gasps.

"He's really a _ghost!_ " someone exclaimed in the crowd. "We're making history right now!"

Putin waited until the noise had subsided before continuing his speech.

“Citizens of Russia, imagine that the day of your death has been decided, and you have been given a choice between taking cyanide pills, stabbing yourself with a knife, or by lying under an express train. You come to the decision that stabbing yourself with a knife is painful, and with lying under a train comes the risk of permanently scarring the train driver and causing him guilt for the rest of his life. Thus, you choose the first option – cyanide pills. It is an easy death.”

Putin cleared his throat.

“Every six years, this is the problem you face. Will you elect the person who has murdered to stand on this stage, the person who has scammed 50 million rubles, or the person who is the leader of the mafia?”

“The answer is obvious – the person who has scammed the money seems the kindest, the least likely to endanger Russia’s present and future. So, you vote for him because although he might destroy Russia’s economy, at least he will not have killed to get where he is today. After all, you don’t have any choice.”

“In Russia, this is the central problem with elections. The candidate elected should reflect the true will of the people and not just be the least disliked. The situation is not like this in Heaven, where I am from (but I am sure you know that already). In Heaven, if the people do not like the candidate for God, they cast a vote for their favorite food.”

The audience snickered. From his position on the stage, Obama could see that the support for Putin was increasing very rapidly. He allowed himself to relax, because Putin was doing marvelously with his speech. There was almost a guarantee that he would win.

“If this were the case in Russia, the current President, instead of Yeltsin, would be a pot of dressed herring, and the vice president a bowl of kasha. Unfortunately, in the Motherland, we are only allowed to vote for people (or ghosts), but not food.”

“This is why I am running for Presidency. I believe that I am the candidate that is most like the pot of dressed herring. By improving the standard of living in Russia, by helping the poor, by reducing the involvement of the mafia in the government, I will make this country a better place. Finally, Russia will be able to live up to its nickname: the ‘Motherland’. What is a mother if she is not good? What is a mother if all her children are dying? I will revive those children. I will make Russia respected internationally. I will return Russia to its former glory and prosperity.”

“So, Russia, who will you vote for? Tell me, who will you vote for?”

Vladimir concluded his speech and walked off of the stage amid thunderous applause.

Obama greeted him in the back wings of the stage, face red with excitement. He congratulated Vlad heartily and embraced him.

“Russia will be saved, Vlad!”

In his excitement, Barack pressed a kiss to Vladimir’s cheek.

“That speech was amazing! You’re sure to win. The people adored you.”

\----

An hour later, when the excitement had ebbed away, Putin brought up the kiss.

“Do not misunderstand me, Barack. It was a very enjoyable experience.” He hesitated, the beginnings of a blush forming on his cheeks. “I-I would like to try it again,” he muttered, “for purely scientific purposes, of course.”

For the second chapter in a row, Barack’s face bore a grin that remained for the rest of the day. He kissed Putin again, this time on the lips.

As he did so, Putin’s face achieved levels of redness once thought impossible, and the only reason Barack broke away was to make sure that Putin wouldn’t burst a blood vessel. Later that day, Obama reflected upon the events that had occurred thus far, and concluded that he and Vlad had reached the tops of the ladders that recognition and fame were.

Little did he know that just just as they reached the very apexes, the ladders would teeter and begin to fall over, and when you fall from a high position on a ladder, there is a very high chance of breaking your neck. In Vladimir and Barack’s case, the broken bone would be both literal and metaphorical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits to Bhoothnath Returns (Nitesh Tiwari) for providing me with most of Putin's speech!


	5. Capitulo Cinco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deth 2 obama-chan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is assassinee even a word like...  
> idgaf though

Yekaterina and Maria slipped easily through the crowd at the candidates’ speeches. Their operation would be silent and near-invisible; they did not want to attract unwanted attention to themselves. Yeltsin’s presidency was in jeopardy. If they failed this mission, so were their lives.

They scouted the people, looking for someone who matched the photograph Medvedev had shown -- it was a challenging task, but Yekaterina and Maria, with hawklike eyes, found the target. They had been taught to never call the assassinees by their names. It gave them humanity, and then the killers would not and could not get the nerve to push the knife in.

Maria walked towards the target. Yekaterina, whose job it was to make sure that no mistakes happened, checked that her weapons sharp and loaded. Clambering up a stack of blue plastic chairs, she clung to a rod in the corner of the room. The shadows hid her well.

“...Russia to its former glory and prosperity.”…” Yekaterina caught bits and pieces of Putin’s speech as she perched in the corner. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Maria sidle up to the target and unsheathe her knife -- the target was too distracted by his boyfriend on stage to pay close attention to his surroundings.

And all too soon, the speech was over. Yekaterina and Maria had lost their chance; the target was running away to congratulate Putin on his speech. They met up in the corridor outside the dressing rooms. There was no fight, because that would take up too much of their precious time.

“He’s inside, Maria. I’ll stand behind the door, you tail him and corner him. When he’s alone…”

Maria nodded and shifted the handle of her knife from one palm to another.

\----

They did not get a chance to kill the target right then. The door they were hovering next to was the wrong door. Stupid mistake, thought Yekaterina. They left the auditorium and waited outside for three hours; eventually, the sky darkened to a bruise-like color.

“This is our very last chance. We must get it right this time, or there’s no telling what Yeltsin will do,” said Yekaterina. “This time, let me kill him. You stand guard.”

Maria agreed once more. The failed attempts were fresh on her mind, and she couldn’t help thinking of how much time had been wasted. Of course, it was hardly their fault, but a mission needed to be completed with as much haste as possible.  

\----

The target approached the two women, grinning brightly.

Yekaterina steadied her hand and threw the knife; it landed in the back of the head. The target fell backwards, and the knife dug deeper into his skull. Blood spread messily across the pavement as the target died. It was a successful mission, Yekaterina and Maria agreed. When Putin found out, he would be demoralized, and would most likely drop out. Yeltsin’s chances of winning were solidified.


	6. Capitulo Seis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rescinding your ghosthood is surprisingly easy, as proven by Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kms i really do hate this fanfiction

“Obama!” Putin cried, after the other boy left the atrium where the candidates had given their speeches.

“Obama, hurry up, the press wants to hear about the person who came up with the _brilliant_ idea of having a ghost run for president -- pl..please!” Putin stammered, remembering the earlier kiss and its results.

Putin turned back to face the myriad microphones pointed at his face and smiled shakily, trying to remove any traces of a blush. “I’m sure my partner will soon arrive. More than likely, he’s just been held back by homework. At any rate, shall we continue without him? I am not entirely certain when or how soon he will return.”

The press him how Obama wanted to implement his nationwide societal reform, as it was plausible in theory, but in practice, it was a much different matter.

Putin was not entirely certain, but the answer probably centered on his ghostly talents and Obama’s knowledge of these probably stemmed from the day Putin had met him and flicked his backpack without touching it.

“As a ghost,” he told the horde of reporters, “I am able to move things without touching them. I can teleport, too. In short, I have a whole host of skills unavailable to humans, and it is this skillset that’s useful in restocking stores with water instead of vodka, cleaning up roads, and building shelters for the poor.”

Far more pressing was the question of why only Obama could see Putin. Perhaps Obama had invented a ‘ghostly’ character and played its part through an elaborate microphone-and-special-effects driven scheme, suggested the media.

Putin vehemently denied this. It was clear, he said, that he was a separate entity and not a mask for Obama’s secret political ambitions.

“And as for why only he can see me, I presume it’s because he’s the only one who actually believes in my existence. You see, because of Russia’s rapid globalization, only a quarter* of Russians believe in ghosts and these people are mostly found in rural areas. It’s more than likely that Obama (who comes from Hawaii, a state with widespread belief in ghosts due to its predominantly Polynesian culture**) finds it easier to believe that I am, in fact, a supernatural being.”

“Why, though?” a reporter asked. “Why does believing in ghosts make them visible?”

Putin thought for a minute before replying.

“It’s like this: what people don’t think about, they don’t tend to notice. To put it more clearly, if you reversed the saying “out of sight, out of mind”, you would get “out of mind, out of sight,” which suggests that once something is no longer at the forefront of your mind, it slips away, out of your reach. As a ghost, I’m not necessarily invisible -- it’s more like I’m _selectively_ visible. The people that have longstanding belief in the supernatural are more likely to think about ghosts and as a result, they are more likely to notice me.”

The same reporter stepped up again. Putin noticed that she had a peculiar bulge in her pocket but he ignored it.

“What made Obama want to run for president?” she asked. “Wasn’t he-- I mean, isn’t he just a high school student? How does he have time?”

“Why the past tense? Barack isn’t dead,” Putin joked. “He’s interested in social reform, I suppose. As for why, you’d have to ask him -- I, unfortunately, do not know. And if it’s okay, I’d like to leave. I have a rather important test tomorrow with Barack, and I haven’t started studying yet.”

The reporter smiled. “All right,” she said, before melding back into the crowd.

Putin left.

\----

He wasn’t far along the road back to Obama’s when the reporter from earlier stopped him. The bulge in her pocket was gone.

“Um,” he said, looking down the barrel of a gun.

“Let’s negotiate. Obama’s dead -- you don’t have anyone to ‘officially’ represent you. And weren’t you the one who said that he was the mastermind behind this whole scheme?”

Putin nodded, gulping. Even though his dad had been, at one point, the leader of the KGB, he wasn’t used to being held at gunpoint.

”You drop out of the race,” Maria continued, “and I let you live. What you’ll do from now on I don’t know, seeing as your only friend is dead, but I’m sure you’ll think of something. Maybe work at Perekrestok *** or something. At any rate, if you don’t go back there and rescind your presidency right now, I’ll kill you.”

“Okay,” managed Putin. He didn’t see any point in continuing the race now that Obama was dead. Would he meet him again if he recanted his ghosthood? Maybe they could rule heaven together, he thought. It was a possibility, but one only achievable if Putin dropped out of the race. He walked back to the atrium and told the smattering of reporters still remaining that he was dropping out for personal, unspecified reasons. He was sure that eventually, they would link Obama’s disappearance to Putin dropping out, but things could wait until then.

Maria’s approving smile greeted him as he made his way home.

“Thank you, Putin. Had you not done that, I would have lost my life as well.”

\----

Putin walked to the school where he’d first met Obama and cried next to the courtyard.

Barack didn’t have to die -- if only he’d stayed with Putin. It’d been so nice to have someone to whom he was visible -- a true friend, Putin thought.

His first.

Obama had been so innocent and it had been Putin’s involvement in the race that had caused his death. What of the impacts of his death to his family? They’d just immigrated -- the loss would be harder on them than anyone else.

But Putin soon realized that mourning was pointless. He needed to see Obama again, as soon as possible, and to do so, he needed to get himself together and call God. He wiped the tears off of his cheeks and dialed Him.

“Yes, Putin?”

“I-I would like to take back ghosthood, if it’s possible.”

“I assume this has something to do with Barack Obama’s death?”

Putin responded in the affirmative and God said that yes, it was possible and yes, he would do it immediately.

\----

With that, Vladimir Putin no longer existed, and the fate of Russia now lay in the hands of a corrupt, twisted man.

Putin and Obama’s ladders had, at last, fallen over. They would have to start anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wouldn't think a crackfic would need sources/footnotes, but here we are. 
> 
> * -- http://english.pravda.ru/news/russia/20-01-2004/55141-0/ The last paragraph is the one I used for the 25% of Russians believe in ghosts part.
> 
> ** -- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghosts_in_Polynesian_culture It says that ghosts used to be integral to Polynesian culture and some of that belief still persists. 
> 
> *** -- http://www.moscovore.com/cooking-resources/supermarkets-and-grocery-store-reviews/ I'm gonna cry why am I looking up Russian grocery stores this is pathetic


	7. Capitulo Siete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Putin goes to Heaven. Faux-physics bullshit is discussed. God is a dictator.

While Putin was being vaporized (God’s process of turning a person into a ghost involved deconstructing whatever was left of their body into separate atoms, and after this separation, flashing the particles -- through entanglement -- to their destination. Needless to say, it was a tedious process, but as He said: it worked, and that was all it needed to do) he thought about why he had chosen to give up his ghosthood when the reporter aimed the pistol at him.

He was a ghost -- there was no reason he’d be scared of a gun. He couldn’t be killed twice, after all.

Putin replayed the scene in his head. Had there been something off about the reporter? Or had meeting Obama (and embarrassingly enough, developing a crush on him) made him more tangible? Putin didn’t know, but he presumed it to be a combination of the two.

It was likely that he had subconsciously picked up on some oddity about the reporter -- the fact that God had responded so quickly only added to his suspicions. He added that to his list of things to ask Him when he was completely vaporized.

He also realized that some weeks after he’d met Obama, he’d lost the ability to float through walls. While he could still teleport, it sapped too much of his energy when he travelled through solid substances and was too inefficient -- it just wasn’t the easiest way to travel.

The only way to teleport on Earth (that scientists thought plausible) was to learn information about photon A and pass that information to the second photon and then on to the final. When the scientists had applied the information from the first photon to the very last, they had created an exact replica of the first. -- the only caveat being that photon A no longer existed as it did before its information was sent to photon C. * Therefore, sending the information from A to C was made that much more challenging when there was a solid barrier between them.

For Putin, this method proved menial and therefore, he hadn’t used teleportation through solid objects.

 _‘Wait, what does that mean? And what does Obama have to do with this?_ ’ Putin thought. Even to him, his thought process was swiftly becoming blurred. He pondered the issue then realized it was because power led to corruption -- absolute power, therefore, led to absolute corruption **.

By allowing himself to become vulnerable to Obama by having a crush on him, Putin had given him power, and because Obama had unknowingly possessed this power and wanted Putin to remain beside him while he led Russia on to hegemony greater than that of the US, he’d ‘grounded’ Putin by removing traces of his teleportation power, making him less of a supernatural being.

In the end, it had been Obama’s selfishness that had caused both Putin taking back his presidency and Obama’s death, Putin realized. What fools -- both he and Obama.

Despite Barack’s brave words about wanting to reform Russia, he’d shown just how ingrained corruption was, and in the end, it had been his own selfishness, a quality frequently exemplified in Russia’s presidents, that had caused his downfall. Putin found it ironic.

Soon afterwards, God finished teleporting Putin and Putin’s ascendancy was complete.

\----

Before Putin info-dumps more quantum entanglement BS to explain away forgotten details, or before he can have a touching reunion with Obama that explains several plot holes and allows the plot to continue, or before he asks God about his suspicions and God starts a revolt, Heaven must be described.

The only problem: Heaven is indescribable except for one detail and its impacts: it is made out of antimatter. This means that its location is, as of now, unknown. Our universe is made up of mostly matter -- and yet the laws of physics state that antimatter and matter should be present in equal proportions. Heaven exists in this as-of-yet undiscovered antimatter, and as a result of its location and/or components, the laws of physics as known to Earth are overturned.

As a result, (I think ***) our characters are able to perform the actions they do only through extreme exercise of creative license .

Back to Putin’s info-dumps and Obama-reunions.

\----

“God,” Putin asked, “were you the reporter that threatened to shoot me? Did you control that assassin, if only for that moment, so that I would forget my ghosthood and come back to Heaven?”

God changed into a soupy fog and spread all around the room, making it impossible for Putin to see.

“Of course, Vlad. You need to be back here -- I need you to help overthrow the angels with me. You are the son of an ex-mafia lord -- I presume you must have learned something from your father?”

 _That’s not something I thought I’d ever hear from God_ , Putin thought.

“That’s alright, God, but you’ve left Russia in the hands of Yeltsin. People will suffer extensively -- he won’t be pleased at nearly being defeated by a ghost. Obama and I needed to take care of that problem, and if you hadn’t made me forget my ghosthood, I could still have repaired things.”

God solidified into a humanoid figure and smirked.

“The thing is, Vlad, I need you more than Russia or Barack. My angels are slowly turning against me and wanting a democracy in Heaven. Of course, that’s absolute shit -- it’s always been like this and it always will. I need you to help me stage a display of my power over them.”

 _What the fuck_ , thought Putin. _I just came from a country that was effectively a dictatorship and here I am, thrown into another. And one where God is the tyrant, no less -- this situation grows stranger by the minute_. But he didn’t voice these thoughts aloud.

“Of course, God,” he said. “Let me consult with Obama first -- after all, he was the mastermind behind my presidential campaign.”

God agreed, then wrote Obama’s name on the wall and immediately, Obama walked into the room.

“Putin!” he exclaimed, running up to his boyfriend and hugging him. “How are you doing?”

“One second,” said Putin. He turned to God. “May we have some privacy to discuss your plan? Spies are everywhere, and I don’t want to endanger the safety of this attack.”

God granted them permission, and Putin and Obama disappeared into a separate room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, we prove that ridiculous PutinObama high school/ghost/Bollywood AUs require sources.  
> * : http://science.howstuffworks.com/science-vs-myth/everyday-myths/teleportation1.htm  
> Teleportation/quantum entanglement reference.  
> **: http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/absolute-power-corrupts-absolutely.html  
> "Absolute power corrupts absolutely", quoth Lord Acton.  
> ***: I'm not an astrophysicist and thus, I don't know how things would function if the universe was made out of antimatter (speaking of which, scientists have made mirror-image hydrogen and positronium (which is an electron-positron pairing... sugoi ne~?)


	8. Capitulo Ocho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn about Heaven's history and why God is a dictator. Putin and Obama kiss for the third time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 484-word infodump. Have fun.

Putin shut the door as they entered the room and asked Obama what God’s dictatorship was all about -- wasn’t Heaven a place for good? Why was it morphing into something cruel and Draconian?

“It started out as a minor incident,” Obama explained. “God forbade the archangels from holding their own councils to make decisions about the placement of souls. At the time, this didn’t carry much importance -- after all, God and his angels were constantly feuding. However, as time went on, they began to realize the importance of this decision: by forbidding councils, God had absolute power over Heaven, and there was no telling what steps he could take next, as he had every barrier to keep his powers in check removed.”

“Furthermore, because of this absolute monarchy, the souls of people weren’t judged fairly. There was only one entity, deciding on fleeting whims, whether someone should be reincarnated or rot forever in the void -- a damning choice, and if God hurried his decision or if He was in an ugly mood, the person would be unfairly punished for wrongs they had never committed.”

“Because people on Earth have seers and the like, people who can communicate directly with God, they soon learned that these events were taking place in Heaven, and through discourse and a grassroots-style movement * they spread awareness about the absolute monarchy. As a result of their increased knowledge, the vast majority of Russia became angry and they boycotted prayer -- churches became dilapidated, Bibles were burned, and Christianity became an abandoned religion.”

“The only reason this impacts out is because nearly half of the Russian population is Christian**, and in the grander scheme of things, this translates into roughly 3.3% of the world’s population not following a lead religion -- while the number might not be large, know that this means 71 million*** people boycotted a religion. That’s quite a number.”

“Because so many people were not following Christianity, and as you explained to the reporters (I was watching. Heaven has complete access to happenings on Earth) the supernatural is only extant or visible through belief, Heaven fell into disrepair. Angels could not acquire funds to repair buildings, the public infrastructure declined, the population fell into poverty because the banks shut down -- in short, it was a total financial and sociopolitical crisis. In this time, God took full control of the throne and demanded the angels work for free.”

“They accepted this idea -- after all, they understood the dire nature of the situation -- but things came to a head when God demanded that they shut down the decision-rooms, where angels held councils to determine whether a soul would be kept in Heaven or sent to Hell. The angels are fair-minded and equitable entities. To see someone go unpunished -- or rather, to see someone innocent punished -- went against the moral code they had been taught since they were young to uphold at all costs”

“As a result, in Heaven, there was an outright civil war. God understandably became angry and so did the angels -- and well, that’s how we get to the status quo.”

Putin’s face had grown stonier throughout Obama’s speech. He finally understood the gravitas of the situation -- if Heaven were to fall, who would reign? Would humanity come up with some other construct -- something to embody the pagan religions**** they would doubtless default to? Moreover, Putin and Obama’s existences were jeopardized by the fall of Heaven.

This was the only place they existed, and if that fell, they’d be thrown into the void. And they faced another challenge -- to remedy the corruption crisis inevitable with Yeltsin’s presidency.

“Barack -- I hope you realize the magnitude of this.”

Obama nodded.

“I do. If we don’t do something, we’ll all be annihilated and no one will be there to save Russia. One of the world superpowers will have its hegemony destroyed -- and think about it, before it even has a chance to defeat the US in an all-out nuclear war.”

“Please don’t advocate for nuclear war, Barack. It’s a ridiculous idea and this time, I mean it -- not like with your persuasion to get me to run for office.”

Barack laughed.

“Sorry -- I was on the debate team***** in Polynesia before I came here. Some things stay, I guess. At any rate, I agree with you. We should overthrow God’s monarchy -- what do you think?”

His spirits already buoyed by his campaign speech four chapters earlier (because this story has shit pacing) Putin agreed.

“Barack, before you leave -- we still need to tell God something about our plan to help Him win.”

“Eh, just make something up, Vlad. We’ll tell him that he needs to start implementing policies instead of just mass-murdering angels, because people don’t listen to violence; they listen to offers they believe are intended for their benefit.”

“Alright,” Putin said. “One last thing --”

He kissed Obama.

“I’m really glad that we were able to reunite,” said Putin after they had broken apart. “Even if it was characterized by a 484-word infodump on the history of Heaven.”

Obama smiled at Vladimir.

“#same,” he said.

They left the room holding hands.

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sources because ya grl did her homework before writing a shitfic
> 
> * essentially where power comes from the very base -- think door-to-door info spreading -- and then rises up to influence government policy. it's characterized by the need to resolve an pressing issue that the PEOPLE want to change. (emphasis on people)
> 
> ** it's given by google itself (ie you know when you google a math problem and google calculator does the math for you....yeah idk what it's called but it's that thing whatever it is). go look it up its 9pm and i'm too lazy to do shit.
> 
> *** did the math myself, therefore, accuracy is dubious. look % of christian russia up, look up % christian world up, divide. multiply. boom. (wrong) answer
> 
> **** i do not believe that pagan religions are as horrible as putin implies them to be. remember that he will be 'voided' if heaven does not stay alive (and by association, christianity), so he is inclined to have a more conservative view. tl;dr character's views do not reflect author's own.
> 
> ***** i, too, am on debate team. fun facts.


	9. Capitulo Nueve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God approves Putin and Obama's plan to conquer Heaven. Putin and Obama are just grateful they're still in Heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I partially fixed the issue of unrealistic dialogue. Oh well, this is a story about turning Heaven into a democracy by acting as double agents. It's not /meant/ to be realistic.

“God,” said Barack when they came upon the deity. “We have found a fair solution to your angel problem.”

God, who’d been swimming in a goldfish bowl, sprang out and transformed into a human. He smiled.

“I’m glad to see you’ve been hard at work,” he replied, looking at Putin and Obama’s linked hands. They blushed and separated.

“At any rate -- I assume you would not have told me you were ready to present me with a plan if you did not have the necessary supplies already prepared. Come, then. Tell me how to defeat these bourgeoisie angels.” God turned around and began walking towards an atrium where they would give their presentations. 

Vlad shared a look with Barack. _Supplies?_ They didn't have anything ready beside a last-minute two-sentence long discussion. 

“We’ll just improvise,” Barack muttered. “We don’t want to aggravate God. He is too powerful an entity to risk it -- if we do not take our chances now, we will not be able to conduct our reforms in Heaven or in Russia.”

Vlad nodded his assent.

“Obama, on a side note, I wanted to ask you -- why do you know all these statistics about countries? Every time we have an informative conversation, they are always brought up and become cornerstones of your arguments.”

Barack chuckled.

“If you haven’t noticed, you do much the same thing. I suppose it is because you are less self-aware than is perhaps healthy. At any rate, this occurs because I am now a supernatural entity. If you have noticed, through the course of eight (now nine) chapters, not once has a character apart from us brought up statistics and used them to prove points. This is because again, we have access to all happenings on Earth -- a set including the vast majority of information. That’s why we can afford to say things like that when others run the risk of being outed as pretentious or know-it-alls.”

“And, Barack, there we see your fatal flaw. You are perhaps too self-aware -- a detail which causes you to break the fourth wall often and ruthlessly.”

They smiled and continued following God to the room where they would present their plan.

Around them, the denizens of Heaven stood gazing at the foreign figures. Who were they? Emissaries from Hell, perhaps? Or demigods, like Hercules, who were going to be elevated given that they proved their worthiness in front of God?

\----

God descended into the atrium of Heaven, a place so small Putin thought it improbable that it would hold more than a single atom.

“Why is this chamber so small?” he wondered aloud.

God looked back at his charges.

“You underestimate the need for total secrecy and privacy regarding these plans. If you will recall, most of the people serving in the building we are in now are angels. They comprise most of my personal staff and the military intelligence. To give them information would be akin to suicide,” He said.

Putin nodded.

“That’s fine,” he replied. “But how will we fit into that room?”

“That,” God said, “is where my genius lies. I have invented a ray which decomposes all matter (whether a soul or a living creature) to its very base: the Higgs boson. The Higgs boson, as you may know, is also called the God particle because it comprises everything. It’s a touching memorial to me, don’t you think?”

_What an asshole_ , Putin thought. _And this is the same deity that had the nerve to tell Nemesis to punish Narcissus?_

God shot Putin and Obama with the ray and they shrank down to Higgs-boson size.

\----

Because of the sheer improbability of giving a speech or telling information while in this state, the following text will have taken incredible creative liberties with science. Sorry, people who wanted this to be a scientifically and logically accurate fanfiction.

\----

They slid into the podium in front of the atrium. _There was no way to talk while in this state,_ Putin realized. Or think, but he was doing it regardless.

Obama appeared to have realized the same thing and had hooked himself up to a multiplier.

_Smart choice_ , Putin thought. He hooked himself up to a second multiplier and quickly, Putin and Obama had billions of atoms around them and with these, were spelling out their thoughts for God.

It must have been an inefficient method, but if Putin had learned something throughout the course of this story, it was that God was, at heart, an inefficient creature. There was nothing he did to promote speed or a rapid exchange of ideas.

\----

 

God paused after Putin and Obama had presented their plan, and Putin could see at once that they were not going to make the cut.

His forebodings held true.

"Giving them lenient policies would only make the situation worse. Angels are meant to be dominated. Social stratification exists in Heaven for this reason: so that there is an elite class and a lower class. The people in each station are meant to be happy with their lots in life” he said. “And this was the case until a few weeks ago. Religious turmoil on Earth caused the effects off the happiness-drug[1] to wear off, and increased (or rather, brought to light) the dissatisfaction present among the ranks of the angels.”

God paused for breath.

“Had I thought you two to be traitors, I would have sent you straight to Hell. In fact, you have the next ten minutes to persuade me to keep you here -- if you do not, you will fall.”

Putin panicked. This was the decisive moment, then. If he and Obama could not pass this test set forth by God, their futures (and current states) were in jeopardy.

And in panicking he made a huge mistake. If you will recall, the two bosons' thoughts were spelled out clearly, as they were hooked up to a multiplier.

_“I need to save Russia,_ ” Putin spelled out. “ _I need to defeat God and this is hindering me. I am going to fail -- this will be a disastrous campaign._ ”

“So that’s what this plan was about,” said God. “But that’s alright. I, too, am a selfish creature, despite the better wishes of humans. I will pardon you for that lapse in thought. Now tell me, before I cast you into Hell.”

Putin and Obama turned towards each other and acted decisively.

“ _Better policies for angels does not necessarily advocate for more lenient policies,_ ” they said. “ _Better policies means policies that are fair. If there is a financial crisis, establish yourself as the absolute ruler -- although do so in a way that is not easily visible. My partner and I recommend reestablishing the decision-rooms, only deliberatel_ _y underfunding them. As long as you make it seem as though you are not leading a lavish lifestyle, the angels will understand the reason and love you all the more._ ”

“That seems fair,” God said. “But I am not convinced.”

Putin and Obama continued.

“ _And in their respect lies the key to your power and the restabilization of Heaven. If you make it seem as though the angels, who are known for their equitability, are deciding whether people go to Heaven or to Hell, you allow many who were once Christians to take up the religion once more. And we are sure that you can see our point from there._ ”

God nodded.

“That is a decent plan,” He said. “I will now release you.”

With that, Putin and Obama regained their human sizes and left the atrium.

\----

“Barack, thank you for saving us from my blunder,” Putin said that night. “I really do appreciate it.”

Barack smiled.

“You’re a dumbass, Vlad. If you think I’m going to let us get killed because you have a tendency to talk without thinking, you’re wrong.”

“I’m offended!” Vladimir exclaimed, laughing. “Good night, Obama. See you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No sources this time! *chorus of yays from the audience and a sigh of relief from the author*  
> If you guys want to learn more about the Higgs boson, this is a cartoon that I found very informative:   
> http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap120501.html


	10. Capitulo Diez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bullshit plans are created. Bullshit plans are implemented. Vlad is cut into two and sent to Russia. Obama makes one (1) pop culture reference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *updates after a month, rising out of the fifth level of hell* Nice

The next weeks were spent in constructing a plan of their own. Now that Putin knew what had happened in Heaven after he’d left for Russia as a ghost, he was much better equipped to solve God’s dictatorship and what would inevitably come to be one in Russia.

“Do you know what will happen once we unseat Yeltsin, Vlad? It’s not enough to just take him away; we have to replace him with someone who will work for the good of Russia.” Barack asked.

“That is the same dilemma that I have, Barack. Who is a suitable candidate to replace Yeltsin? All of the frontrunners I can currently think of have some corrupt affiliations. And there’s always the issue of the KGB becoming overly involved in the Russian government once more. We need someone who can stave off the mafia while looking after the country.”

“Such a candidate is nearly impossible to find.”

Vlad laughed and threw his pencil down.

“Not just nearly impossible, Barack. It’s just never going to happen.”

“While that’s true, maybe we are going about this the wrong way. Russia doesn’t have to be ruled over by anyone - have you heard of rule of the proletariat?”

“Barack, communism doesn’t work. This is proved through precedence. Take Stalin -- in spite of Lenin’s best attempts to keep the power-hungry Stalin away from any position of power, he failed and we are left with this butchered ideology. Where there is a power vacuum there are dictators. We need a different ideology to implement in Russia, something that has never existed before. The solutions we have currently fall nothing short of total dictatorships or…” Vlad trailed off as he thought of a new idea.

“What?” asked Barack.

“Imagine, Barack, if you were split into two piec--”

“Vladimir, as your presidential boyfriend and half of our crackfic slash pairing, I’m going to cut that thought off before you can continue. In no circumstance are you allowed to cut yourself in two and send one half to preside over Russia. Firstly, the consequences will be ghastly. You do not know how you will split apart, so if your brain becomes halved, you will deal with the consequences of being an idiotic president and possibly ruining Russia even further. Secondly, haven’t you read Harry Potter, the book our author is directly pulling this shit from? You saw what happened to Voldemort when he made himself into horcruxes.”

“Barack, I hate to break it to you, but Harry Potter is published 10 years in the future. Furthermore, remember that this is Heaven. While it may be dilapidated, remember that Heaven is far grander and has far more resources than Earth could ever. As a result of this improved technology, it becomes feasible to find a method for soul-splitting that is mostly harmless.”

Barack sighed.

“I’m not convinced. We will work on constructing a new ideology first, and if that does not work, we will turn to your Horcrux-style plan. Keep in mind, though, the latter is only a last resort.”

Putin could do little but agree.

 

\----

 

Eventually, they made an amalgam of already-existing ideologies and decided to implement it in Russia. It was a complex task, not the least because neither Barack nor Vlad were actually present on Earth. Added to their challenges was the fact that their plan demanded a United States of the World.

According to utopian socialist theories, when an ideology fell out of favor, another one would peacefully enter to fulfill the needs of the masses. [1] Uniting the world under one label was a surefire way to get these masses to interact with each other so there would be a formation of a global party rather than many separate entities.

Peace is only possible when total unity is achieved, Barack and Putin realized. And this should be their end goal -- to fix the entire world, not just Russia. Other countries also labored under corruption and greed. Their system was a step in the right direction to negate the poisonous mindset.

Once this global party had been created, power and leadership would need to be distributed to the working classes, as aristocracy harbored too much potential for greed. This did not mean that they were enforcing communism -- merely creating a worldwide democracy.

Some might have asked how this differed from the status quo. To this, the reply was swift: nongovernmental organizations might play a role in creating democracy, but they were nongovernmental organizations. Governments themselves acted in self-interest and while they were influenced by the needs of the people, the amount to which this happened was tiny. Therefore people needed more power.

However, while democracy should increase, the plan also called for retaining capitalism, because --

“What?” exclaimed Putin upon hearing this. The fourth wall suddenly broke and the author decided to intervene.

“The author does not support communism in reality,” the author replied. “I hope you will respect my desire to not be caught by the FBI.”

“Still, capitalism--? I thought you were strongly against that,” Barack chimed in. “It’s driven by greed, isn’t it? Greed leads to selfishness leads to resource wars leads to unending warfare. It’s a bad ideology to say the least.”

“Ah,” the author said. “You’re mistaken. Just because individuals in a capitalist society are greedy does not mean the ideology itself is greedy. You’re trying to equate apples and oranges. Also, please differentiate self-interest and selfishness. Capitalism is based on people operating out of self-interest, which is not immoral in itself. For example, brushing your teeth every day is an act of self-interest to prevent tooth decay. Does this mean it is immoral?”

“Fine -- but you’re contradicting yourself here. If you have a worldwide democracy, how can you claim to be promoting capitalism? Under capitalism it is impossible to fulfill the needs of all of the masses because the ideology is driven by self-interest. To each their own. What of the many?”

The author paused to think for a moment, as [blank] had not prepared a response for this question. Suddenly, [blank] had an epiphany.

“Capitalism is a mutually beneficial system, though. It does a good job of channeling self-interest towards good ends. An economic system requiring people to act selflessly would fail. Instead, capitalism accounts for the fact that humans inherently act out of self-interest and channels those consequences for good.”

“The thing is, though,” Obama said, “you’re effectively admitting that capitalism takes selfishness and channels it for the supposed greater good. This doesn’t work in the status quo -- how many wars are caused by capitalism? See, like any other ideology, it may look good on paper but in practice it’s absolute shit.”

The author had to agree to that. The fourth wall magically healed as the author vanished.

Putin and Obama went back to thinking of a plan that would work.

So far, they’d established that there needed to be a worldwide governmental coalition that had mass democracy. Class privilege, of course, had to be abolished. They might have come up with an ideology but they still needed to find a suitable candidate to rule, and unless they subscribed to a state of constant revolution like Trotsky described, there was no way of allowing the proletariat to have total power while still maintaining stability. It simply wasn’t feasible. [2]

 

\----

 

Barack sighed after many days of work. This project simply was not working out.

“Vlad,” he said hesitantly. “I think we may have to go through with your Horcrux plan.”

"I agree. A new ideology has too many variables. I wish things were simpler than this!" 

Barack laughed under his breath. "Me too, Vlad. But it's just not the best option. I hope you understand why."

Vladimir nodded and smiled grimly.

“Worst comes to worst, I suppose. I just hope that whatever the results are, they’re enough to warrant tearing myself into two parts.”

“Out of curiosity, Vlad, do you have any idea of the sheer amount of energy it will take to split you into two parts?” Barack asked.

Vladimir, of course, had a good idea and he described this to Barack. He said that the amount of energy needed would indeed be excessive, but anything was a viable option for reparation of the world and of heaven.

Over the course of several days, Barack and Vlad built a machine that would rip Vladimir into two parts. With the aid of Heaven’s vast resources and a physicist’s spirit, Barack built a machine that would cool antimatter to just a few decimals above 0k.

 

\----

 

“Vlad, are you ready?” Barack asked. “This plan is risky. I hope you understand what failure entails.”

Vladimir nodded, the very picture of determination. Even if his spirit was torn apart, he would be ready to save the world and Heaven.

Barack let go of Vladimir’s hand and the latter stepped into one half of the impermeable room, divided into two parts by an wall to prevent the interaction of the two halves of Putin -- assuming, of course, that it worked on human spirits.

 _I suppose I’ll still have half of him,_ Barack thought. _But it’s impossible to get the same sort of interaction with half a person as with a whole._ He paused. _I’m sure there’s some deep, Quotable quote there but the author cannot think of it just yet. [blank] is overwhelmed with angst thinking about Putin’s Horcruxification._

 The lasers were set up in their correct positions and the temperature was ready to cool to just hundredths of degrees above 0k [3].

Through a small window in the room, Vlad smiled at Barack and Barack cooled the room. All systems were go. Vladimir was divided into two parts and one was transmitted to Russia while the other was suctioned out and thawed to make a (well, technically half of a) spirit again.

Despite the fact that his invention had been successful, Barack couldn’t suppress tears. Once more he and Putin were torn apart, without any guarantee of return on the other’s part.

 _What if Vlad stayed on Earth, never accomplishing his mission? What if Russia proved too resistant to change? What if Vladimir never returned to Heaven?_  

Barack was worried.

At last he found the Quotable quote that he could not think of -- separated, each of them might have been half a pair, but nevertheless, they were their own wholes.

They were, in the end, separate entities, bonded together by something stronger than love. And for that Barack was glad, because it reassured him that Vlad was self-sufficient. This mission would be completed successfully. They would win the fight against selfishness in due time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> footnotes return. I hope you realized how bullshitty this chapter was. 
> 
> [1] This is an idea from a capitalism kritik reddit thread. I lost the link to the thread so I can't source it anymore -- but I'm still technically giving credit 2 dis shit. :~) source your stuff properly children.
> 
> [2] Trotskyism essentially says that to go against capitalism, you need to have your neighboring states in constant revolution. Here's an article (that's admittedly against Trotskyism) but is pretty cool nevertheless: https://www.marxists.org/archive/olgin/1935/trotskyism/05.htm
> 
> [3] This is actually a thing. See the following:  
> http://news.nationalpost.com/news/canada/freezing-antimatter-could-allow-scientists-to-study-it  
> http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0262407910615400


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